My Heat
by SOthisIStheHOBBIT
Summary: Dwarrows like to cuddle together for warmth... hobbits? not so much. Bagginsheild.


Thorin didn't have much faith in Gandalf's decision to bring a hobbit, of all things, on their quest to reclaim Erabor.

He insisted that Bilbo Baggins was burglar material, but the hobbit hastey denied it... then fainted when Bofur started to go on about 'incineration.'

What could possibly go wrong?

But, to the Master Baggins' credit, he wasn't doing too bad of a job keeping up with the rest of the company. Of course he always lagged a little behind, having shorter legs than everyone else and being unaccustomed to travel.

Which was putting it nicely really.

The hobbit was a complete novice to living on the move, and Thorin was positively aghast when Gandalf informed him that Hobbits used to be a wondering race.

Just not knowing the little things, like tucking your trousers into your boots when crossing through a pond or river to avoid leeches, or which plants were poisonous. He'd have to learn as he went, most often through painful-to-watch trial and error.

But that was the hobbit's business, and Thorin certainty didn't have time to school him in the ways of the wild.

Recently, it had turned rather bitterly cold. Winter was nipping at their heels, and the King cursed himself for not making better headway. This was the last thing they needed, and the weather was already teasing with the prospect of snow.

The nights were the worst. The temperature dropped even further (if that was at all possible) and everything was shrouded in pitch blackness. So they were forced to stop and make camp when the sun fell.

In order to cope, Thorin's company employed an ancient dwarf tactic for dealing with frosty nights.

The went to sleep, in a heap.

The youngest and most vulnerable would be in the middle, where it was warmest, and the others would curl around them; their combining body heat keeping the chill out.

This seemed like a very normal thing to do, to dwarves, but to hobbits, apparently, it was all very strange.

"... I beg your pardon?" Master Baggins asked, wide eyed.

Thorin sighed. "I asked you when you we going to join us Halfing, we are all tired, so its best that we settle down and get some sleep."

The hobbit, blinked, then blinked some more, and stared over at the pile over dwarves over the dying campfire.

"You... you want me to-?" His face was growing redder and redder in colour.

"Yes." Thorin was getting irritated.

"But... why?" Master Baggins looked quite bewildered.

"Because it is cold." The king explained. "And you won't be much use to us frozen." He gestured with his head. "Come."

The hobbit didn't move. "I think I'm alright where I am, if its all the same too you."

"I'm not asking, Halfling, I'm telling you." Thorin growled, crossing his arms. "Go to the heap."

Master Baggins mimicked the dwarf's move. "And I'm telling you, that I would rather not. Thank you."

Thorin set his jaw. The cheek of the Halfing was something else, normally no one would dare talk to him like that. HE was either very brave or very stupid.

"Gandalf." Thorin gritted. "Your hobbit is being impertinent, and I'm at the end of my patience, so, why do you try and explain to him the importance of keeping warm." He glared at Master Baggins. "Because I feel I'm on the verge of doing something I'll regret."

He then stormed away back to the rest of the company, angry enough to strangle a bear.

"What's the matter, Uncle?" Fili asked, voiced muffled by Kili's shoulder.

"The Halfing." Thorin grumbled.

There was some exasperated muttering, and Dwalin chuckled. "You're just in a mood cause' you don't get to cuddle with the burglar."

Kili and Fili giggled, and Thorin gave the pile a good kick. The dwarves yelped in protest, but the king cared little.

He sat next to them, defiantly not sulking, until a moody looking Master Baggins plodded over.

"I see you've come to your senses." Thorin remarked.

The hobbit rolled his emerald eyes. They looked almost pretty in the dim light. "Must you be so smug? It's unbecoming of you, Thorin. Besides, I haven't come here to join your… pile, but instead I wanted to apologise. I was rather rude earlier." He bowed curtly. "Now, goodnight." The hobbit laid his bedroll down a few feet away from Thorin's dwarves and curled into a ball.

"I-Hobbit, this is foolishness!" Thorin declared.

"Not so loud, Laddie." Mumbled Balin.

"It's not my fault, it's that, that cheeky little-" Thorin threw his hands up in the air. "Have it your way, Halfling, you'll be regretting your insolence soon enough."

With muttered curses, Thorin burrowed himself into the toasty mass of bodies, earning a few grunts and groans from his companions but was soon firmly in the grips of sleep.

When Thorin opened his eyes many hours later he was greeted by darkness. His eyes took a moment to adjust, and in the gloom he could make out the vague shapes of the camp.

He could also hear the sound of teeth chattering.

Odd.

Then as he perked up his ears to listen more closely the pitiful little sounds were not coming from the pile, but instead just a bit away from them. Thorin shifted carefully, trying not to rouse his companions, and craned his neck to have a look around.

As he suspected, the hobbit was the one making the noise. He was muttering, and shivering in sleep, his tiny body trembling as a freezing wind blew right through them.

"It's his own doing" bristled Thorin, and yet, he felt sympathy and concern well up in his chest despite himself.

Master Baggins was only small, and it wouldn't take much for him to get sick, and they couldn't stop to let him rest if that happened… it could get worse, get into his chest and…

Thorin shook his head to clear it of that particularly unpleasant chain of thought.

Oh for Mahal's sake.

The king gingerly freed himself from the company, and had to try extra hard to remove Dwalin's arm that had encircled his stomach. The bigger warrior whined in sleep at the loss but then turned around and buried his face in Nori's neck. Nori mumbled something about pretty necklaces, but didn't wake.

Thorin raised an eyebrow at them both then began to shuffle towards the hobbit as quietly as he could. When he reached Master Baggins, the king could see that he was looking very cold indeed, and his lips were turning a worrying shade of blue. He touched his arm, it was like ice.

There was nothing for it.

The dwarf set himself down next to the hobbit, and gently began to gather the smaller creature up into his arms. Wincing again at the sheer coldness of the body, and brought Master Baggins to his chest.

Oh.

Well.

It felt… not bad at all, nice even. The hobbit was soft around the edges, and fit quite fell in Thorin's grip. His curls were soft, much softer than dwarf hair, and the strands tickled the king's nose.

Thorin felt himself begin to feel drowsy once more, and rested a cheek on Master Baggins' head, slowly, his eyelids became heavy, and he drifted off into a dreamless slumber; feeling very warm indeed.


End file.
